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it gives them a chance to get off early. That’s how they want it.” Nathaniel poured himself a mug of coffee and stood scowling at it. “Seems a lot happened that night that I didn’t hear about, being in the hospital. There was a jailbreak over in Tennessee, and our sheriff and his men had to set up road blocks and check all the cars crossing the mountains. It was a rough night for Rance Gatlin and Brad. Since they were already up on the Gap road because of Wiley, they were ordered to stay there and keep watch till morning. Shorty passed them coming back to the Forks when he took his first load up.”
    Timor puzzled over this. It complicated everything.
    â€œIf your box was thrown into one of the trucks,” he said, “Rance Gatlin didn’t have a chance to get it afterward—if he was the one who put it there. But maybe Sammy got it.”
    â€œOr one of the drivers—depending on which truck it was thrown in. If it was still in the truck in the morning, anyone would be bound to notice it the moment he opened the door. But somehow I don’t think it was Shorty. He’s about as honest as they come. As for the other man, Jackson …”
    â€œBut—but he hasn’t got it,” Timor said quickly. “Or Sammy, or anyone else. I just remembered. Wiley said he’s been following people around for days, and that no one has the box!”
    Nathaniel shook his head. “I don’t understand, Tim. If the box was tossed into one of the trucks, someone took it out. Even if it fell on the floor instead of the seat, you could hardly miss seeing it.”
    â€œMaybe it wasn’t hidden in one of the trucks after all.”
    Nathaniel sat down, his brow furrowed. He sipped from his mug, and began tapping his long fingers on the table. “Tim, just exactly what did Wiley tell you about the box?”
    â€œWell, I asked him if he’d found out who has it, and he said: ‘Timmy, ain’t nobody got that box.’ Then he told me he’d been following everyone around, and looking everywhere, and that it was mighty queer. He was getting some ideas, he said, only he needed more information right away.”
    â€œI see. Anything else?”
    â€œOnly—only the questions he wanted you to check for him. There was a lot I wanted to ask him, but his voice faded again.” He paused, and decided not to mention old Wiley’s warning. “Is there any way you can find out what Sammy Grosser did that night?”
    Nathaniel made a wry face. “Sammy will be a problem, but I’ll try. Everybody at Grosser’s has been talking about your chair, so I’ll go over and put in my two cents worth and see what I can dig up. But first I’d better take you home.” He stood up and touched Timor on the shoulder. “I’m sorry about this trouble with your uncle, but it’ll straighten out. Old army men are a little tough at times, but you can usually count on them in a pinch.”
    Timor said nothing. He dreaded going back and facing the colonel, nor had he any illusions about the future. You simply couldn’t explain some matters to him. From now on, things were going to be difficult.
    Swaddled in an old hunting coat, he huddled in Nathaniel’s battered jeep while it crept through the mist. The mist had settled like an impenetrable blanket in the lower valley. But miraculously, as they climbed higher, they broke out of it entirely and the road became clear ahead. Suddenly Timor remembered what he had seen up here earlier.
    â€œI forgot to tell you something,” he said quickly. “I don’t know exactly where I was when it happened, but it couldn’t have been very far from the place where Wiley’s truck crashed.”
    Nathaniel slowed, then stopped the jeep while Timor told about the hidden searcher. “I—I couldn’t see his face,” he said. “At first I thought it was Brad James, but